


Mr Sandman

by Prepare_For_Death



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe, Assassin Richie Tozier, Bisexual Richie Tozier, F/M, Human Pennywise (IT), M/M, im sorry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-08
Updated: 2018-02-08
Packaged: 2019-03-15 13:17:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13614159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prepare_For_Death/pseuds/Prepare_For_Death
Summary: If there was one thing Richie Tozier was good at, it was pushing away everyone he loved. It was probably in his genes. Which is why he pushed away all six of his childhood best friends away in high school. Even Eddie Kaspbrak, whom he loved with every fiber of his being. He began using any sort of drugs and any alcohol he could get his hands on. Eventually he started snapping at his friends when they would scold him. His heart ached every time he thought about the tears that had welled up in Eddie’s eyes when Richie had shown up to school completely wasted. That was the same day that Richie was kicked out of Derry High.He had began prostituting himself at 21, because an addict needed to have money to pay for his supply. When he was 23, a woman had knocked on his shitty apartment door. “This is your fault, take it.” Richie couldn’t even recognize the woman as she shoved a bundle in his arms and turned on her heels.It was when Richie saw the baby in his arms, and heard the first cries slip past her lips, that he decided to turn his life around. Maybe changing prostitution for being a paid assassin might not have been Richie’s best choice. But at least he cared for that little girl more than anything





	Mr Sandman

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I highly appreciate it. Prepare for angst oops

Chapter One  
RICHIE 

The man was crying, Richie really hated it when they cried. It was nothing personal. He just needed the money to support his family. “Please!” The man was loaded, and that was obvious from his appearance. 

He wore a stiff black suit with a pressed white button up. The red tie nearly matched his red hair. He was old and senile. “I’ll give you anything you want,” he pulled out his wallet, throwing it at Richie’s direction. He started rambling off numbers and passwords. “You can have all of it! Just please don’t kill me.” 

Richie never spoke to the victims. For the fear of saying something dumb. “Please, whatever they’re offering you, I will double it!” It was at this, that Richie placed the wallet back in the man's pocket before using all of his might to push the man from the window. 

He closed his eyes tightly, his stomach twisting into knots as it always does whenever he kills. He didn’t risk glancing out the window. For he knew without a doubt that the man would be dead from a fall at this height. Richie needed to get out as fast as he could. He could already hear the sirens approaching. Doing one more run through of the floor, he made sure that there were no signs of him. He double checked the suicide not he forced the man to write was in place and said nothing that would give him away. The door burst open and officers began piling in with shields and guns. Richie threw his arms in the air. 

He couldn’t lie and say that he hadn’t killed anyone. Strapped to his waist was a gun, piano wires, and two different knives. He was dressed in black cargo pants, all of his plans and the mans files were crammed in his pockets. He wore a long sleeve black shirt, black gloves, and a black mask covered the majority of his face that wasn’t covered by his goggles. A hood covered his hair that was pulled into a tight bun. “I can explain,” he dropped the suicide note, red lasers were aimed at his chest. 

Richie glanced down at the gun on his hip, he began reaching for the weapon. The guns went off. 

~ ~ ~ ~ 

Richie was jolted awake, he had fallen asleep on the couch again. “I wanna watch Barbie!” Annabelle giggled, waving the case around in her small hand. Richie leaned down and kissed her the top of her head. He pushed the dark curls from her face. He yawned before heading onto the kitchen, Anna on his heels. He tried to shake off the bad vibes his dream gave him.

“Anna, can we watch something else, anything? We’ve already watched this movie three times today.” Richie squatted down before the oven, glancing at the cookies. She crossed her arms, looking as sassy as a five year old with three missing teeth could. Richie loved snow days, because it was the most time he could spend with Anna, but he just wished they could chose different movies. 

“Spiderman,” she put in a lot of thought, “Only! If I can paint your nails.” 

“The great debater,” Richie ruffled her hair, the oven went off and Richie grabbed the oven mitt and pulled out the chocolate chip cookies. “You know, I have never seen pink chocolate chip cookies, I’ll give you that one.” 

“I’ll go get polish,” Richie watched Annabelle run from the room, trailing behind her Batman cape and her sparkly pink tutu. He threw the popcorn into the microwave and grabbed a hair tie from the bathroom. 

He heard the sound of Annabelle running back into the kitchen. “Daddy?” 

“In the bathroom,” Richie met her in the hall, she was holding a bright pink, it was always her go to color. 

“We can match,” she giggled as Richie scooped her up into his arms. He kissed her cheek. 

“I would love that, but first, we’ve gotta control all this hair.” He walked her into the kitchen and set her down before stopping the popcorn. Annabelle began shaking the polish while sliding into a kitchen chair. Richie poured the popcorn into a large silver bowl and set it on the table. He started running his fingers through her hair.

Richie had spent hours upon aching hours with Annabelle sitting on his lap, hair braiding tutorials on the TV. Now, he had the muscle memory of tons of different styles, and he’d even taught a few mothers and fathers at the kindergarten. 

He opted for a quick French braid. Annabelle swung her feet, “Stay still,” Richie playfull rolled his eyes. Once the braid was complete, he tickled the back of her neck. “Spiderman time?” Richie looked at his nails, they were already a pale blue from Saturday.

“Nah, let’s play spa instead! I’ll braid your hair.” Richie grinned, whenever they played spa, he always ended up with makeup that stained, so much glitter he would find it three days later, and more knots in his hair than curls. But it was one of Annabelle’s favorite games. 

He shrugged, “Alright kiddo,” he slid into the chair opposite of her and held out his calloused hands. 

“It’s scented too!” She began painting over the pale blue, along with the skin around his nails. She hummed as she worked, sticking the tip of her tongue out of her lips. Richie snapped a picture. “Can I have a cookie?” she asked, giving her legendary puppy dog eyes. 

“Not yet, let them cool some more.” His work phone began buzzing from its place out of reach on top of the fridge. “Hang on,” he pulled his hands away and stood up to grab the phone. Annabelle groaned dramatically as he picked up the phone and sat back down. She grabbed his left hand once more and got back to work. He never met his employer, the whole job was incredibly shady, but it paid the bills and allowed him to get clean and keep his daughter. So he wasn’t complaining. “Hello,” Richie stated blankly. Only one number would be calling him on that number. 

“Tozier, I have a job for you. Thirty grand if you get the job done quick.” Richie’s eyes widened, that was a lot of money. Money he could put towards Annabelle’s college funds. “Rich guy who owns some big wig limo company about an hour south of here.” 

“You have my interest,” Richie switched hands so Annabelle could finish the right hand, he tried to play it cool, but a dumb grin cut across his face as he glanced at his little girl. Her dark eyelashes shielding her brown eye along with the green and blue one. Even at five years old, she already had Richie’s face, his cheekbones and his nose. The array of freckles. The notion that Annabelle could go to college and live comfortably, was enough to make tears well up in his eyes. 

“His name is Eddie Kaspbrak, I have someone sending you a file of all his information tomorrow. You have one week.” The other line clicked off and the smile slid off of Richie’s face.


End file.
